


Rain Come Down, Forgive This Dirty Town

by gillywulf



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Bellamy Blake-centric, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gillywulf/pseuds/gillywulf
Summary: “Are you Bellamy Blake?” she asked once she came to a stop a little too close to their table. He forced himself not to react to the unexpectedly light voice.“I am. Who might you be?” he asked. He let his hand carefully hover near the revolver facing away from her. If she planned to attack him for something, he was ready. He almost pulled at it when she dug into the satchel hanging off her shoulder. The hefty coin purse she dropped onto the table was a surprise.“A client.” Bellamy’s eyes shifted from the purse to the woman. Then back again. And again.“Please,” he gestured to the empty chairs nearby, “join us.”orU.S. Marshall Bellamy Blake is good at rescuing people. Some would say he’s the best in the business. That’s why Lexa Woods hires him to find Clarke Griffin.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	Rain Come Down, Forgive This Dirty Town

**Author's Note:**

> Have a western au, as a treat.

Bellamy Blake prided himself on a few things:

1\. He was handsome. It wasn’t up for debate. 

2\. He could be devilishly charming when he needed/wanted to be. Turning it on was as easy as pulling the trigger on his revolver.

3\. He did a fine job at raising his sister Octavia, damn whatever the harpies said at the saloon in town.

4\. He was good at his job. _Really_ good at it. Calling himself the best might not be a stretch given his track record. 

Tracking people down and pulling them out of that location was a science. He had rules and protocol for everything. He did research and prepared more than anyone he knew. Any partners he briefly pulled into a job were vetted until he was 100% sure he knew how they would react in any given situation. All risks were calculated and decided upon in advance. Bellamy did not do ‘hope and pray’. Randomness was not tolerated. 

Frankly, Finn Collins was unusual for him. The man across the table from him was exactly the kind of person who would walk into a hostile environment with no plan and still manage to make it out with the asset. He was all charm with just enough brain between his ears to keep him above the rest. His eyes lingered on the breasts of every woman who walked by and winked at the ones who wouldn’t. But Bellamy was stuck with him until they found a lead.

“Are you finished with that meal, or do you want to play with it some more?” he asked Finn with a sigh. They’d been sitting in the saloon for over an hour listening to bad piano playing and listening to the local rabble get riled up. If Bellamy was going to be away from Octavia for so long, he wanted to actually be productive in that time. Finn clearly just wanted to be satisfied. 

The long haired man leaned casually back in his chair. “What, you in a rush?”

“Yes, I have a reason to get home.” He didn’t point out that Finn also did, if the letters he reread at night were anything to go by. His impatience was met with indifference.

“Ah, take a load off. That girl of yours will be happy for some alone time away from her big, scary brother,” Finn argued with another swallow of beer. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Bellamy mumbled under his breath. He’d done a good job raising his baby sister, but that meant in no way was she civilized. She was always stealing the pants he’d outgrown and getting into situations that young ladies should not be involved in. He’d been to the sheriff’s office more times to pick her up than to collect on bounties it felt like.

He _certainly_ refused to think about Lincoln who he was sure would find time for Octavia in his absence. 

The argument was on the tip of his tongue when the door burst open for a wild looking woman, shocking the saloon into silence. Her brown hair may have been neatly braided a few days ago, but now if was wild and frizzy and windblown in every direction. A wide brim hat had settled around her neck by its string right above a red bandana. Her white shirt was dusty and sweaty, as was the dark skirt riding her hips. All of that would have been enough for Bellamy to declare her some shade of insane had it not been for her face. 

She was pretty, uncommonly so for the women Bellamy had seen in these parts. Her nose was set with a regal line and high cheekbones. Her eyes - though hard to make out from the distance - were tight with focus, determination, and - possibly - some sort of lunacy. Those eyes settled on him and he decided to drop the ‘possibly’ from the previous statement. She marched over to their table with a single-mindedness that startled Finn into sitting upright for the first time in weeks. 

“Are you Bellamy Blake?” she asked once she came to a stop a little too close to their table. He forced himself not to react to the unexpectedly light voice.

“I am. Who might you be?” he asked. He let his hand carefully hover near the revolver facing away from her. If she planned to attack him for something, he was ready. He almost pulled at it when she dug into the satchel hanging off her shoulder. The hefty coin purse she dropped onto the table was a surprise. 

“A client.” Bellamy’s eyes shifted from the purse to the woman. Then back again. And again. 

“Please,” he gestured to the empty chairs nearby, “join us.” Some of the noise in the saloon resumed as she fell into the seat with a tiredness that hinted at a multiple day journey, but Bellamy was sure unsavory eyes were still focused on their table. “Pleasure to meet you, miss. This is Mr. Finn Collins, he is working with me for the time being. Might I ask your name?” He waved towards the bar for another drink. 

“Alexandria Woods. Mr. Blake, I have been looking for you for four days, I do not have time to dawdle. If you cannot help me, please say so for I am on a time limit and must find someone to help me.” Miss Woods ignored the drink when it was set in front of her on the table. Bellamy had to applaud her focus. 

“In general, I have the confidence that I will be able. But I must ask some particulars first.” He leaned in close on his elbows. “What is the time limit and what is the reason for it?” 

“Five days; the end of the month. The Wallaces have kidnapped my- my friend as collateral against what they believe the town owes them. They are trying to take control of the mine nearby,” she explained, digging once more in her bag. This time she pulled out a flimsy piece of paper. A photograph Bellamy realized after a moment. That boded well for the money to be made in this job.”This is Jacob Griffin. He was the Sheriff’s deputy. The Wallaces killed him in front of everyone and took his daughter, Clarke, as leverage.”

The photograph was of a good looking family, a proud father, stern mother, and a truly beautiful daughter. Miss Woods pointed first to the man, then to the daughter. 

“Wow, dibs when we rescue her,” Finn laughed with a playful punch to Bellamy’s shoulder. He caught Miss Woods tensing her jaw, but something else in the explanation had caught his attention. 

“You said the name ‘Wallace’.”

“I did,” she clarified. Bellamy shot a look to Finn (and was relieved to see he’d paid enough attention to catch it) and leaned back in his chair. 

“Then keep your money.” 

She blanched. “What? No, I-”

“I’ll do it for free.”

“You-” Miss Woods couldn’t seem to find the words. The conversation had taken a turn she was clearly not expecting and she didn’t know how to react to that. “Okay. Thank you. When do we leave?”

“You’re not coming.”

“I am.”

“No.”

“Then I will take my money and the Wallaces’ location with me.” Her eyebrow raised in challenge and Bellamy growled. He couldn’t argue that. 

“In front of the church at sun up. If you are late we will be leaving without you.” he decided, downing the rest of his drink. She beamed at him. 

“Then I best get my rest.” She stood up from her chair - much less aggressively than when she’d sat in it - and pushed it into the table. She almost began walking away before she remembered the photograph and purse. Thankfully, Finn waited until she was out the door again before hissing at Bellamy. 

“‘Free’? What the _hell_ are you thinking? I know it’s the Wallaces, but we still need to get paid. I got _debts_!” he spat. Bellamy reached for the drink Miss Woods left untouched. 

“I am not looking a gift horse in the mouth. We have been on the road weeks looking for a lead when it turns out the lead is chasing us. I want my vengeance _now_. Consider it her informant fee.” Bellamy downed it in one gulp. 

“I like vengeance _and_ money,” Finn said sullenly. 

“Mr. Collins, if a woman if going to chase me through the Blistering West of this great nation all the way from her dinky mining town just so she can pay me to rescue her friend, she probably needs that money more than we do. In this circumstance, you must be satisfied with only one.”

~

Bellamy trudged out from the inn just before the skies had changed from their mess of pink hues into the calm, smooth blue of the early morning. Sleeplessness clung to his limbs and made his steps heavy and slow. He’d never been quite close enough to his goal, not in 15 years, and he could taste it. He was almost able to live the life he’d promised Octavia when she was young. Just them, a farm and no one else. No more killing, maiming, or murder. There was no way he could miss it. 

“Good morning, Mr. Blake.” Either he was more exhausted than he thought or Miss Woods was stealthy in ways he never expected. She stood just outside of the inn, her horse reigned and saddled. She herself looked for more put together than she had the previous night. The dust and sweat she’d accumulated from her search had been washed away. Her shirt was now a navy blue and her hair had obviously been brushed to perfection and then neatly tied into a braid. The bandana and the look of absolute seriousness had stayed. 

“Miss Woods. Glad you will be able to join us. You seem to me like you are ready to go,” he said, tipping his hat and turning towards the stables next door. 

“I am. I promised you, I would not be left behind.” He could feel her hesitation as he opened his horse’s stall to ready him. “Is...Mr. Collins not coming?” Bellamy hid a grin behind his horse’s thick neck. Her hope was palpable and, while shared, not great for the idea of the three of them being stuck together for the next few days. 

“Oh he is, he will crawl out from his crevice in the ground shortly, of that I am sure. He always seems to.” No sooner had he said so, than the man himself stumbled into the stables, clearly heavily hungover and smelling foul. Bellamy shot a sarcastic grin to Miss Woods. “Speak of the devil.” She huffed in disappointment and left them to finish preparing. 

“I don’t think she likes me,” Finn murmured as he tended to his own horse. Bellamy could only laugh. 

Saddling their horses was only the matter of a few minutes and then they led the animals out of the stable, dropping a few coins into the hands of the stable master as they went. The moment Miss Woods caught sight of them, she swung onto her own horse and turned westward. 

“Lead the way, ma’am.” And lead she did. They set off at a steady pace. Bellamy was sure his and Finn’s horses could handle it, but Miss Woods’s thick draught horse was only just managing. It was a beautiful white spotted mare, but why would she take a horse like that on this kind of journey? Maybe he wasn’t too far off the mark when he’d guessed about her money issues the night before. 

“I need to slow down,” thankfully Finn’s condition saved the day, “I am not awake enough to be at this pace for too long. Also, the pair of you made me miss breakfast. I would be fine for a journey such as this if I had breakfast.” His complaints could just be heard over the sound of hooves slowing down to accommodate his pounding head and dry mouth. An apple flew past Bellamy’s face into Finn’s. He bobbled with it a moment before he finally had a firm hold of it. He nodded appreciatively to Miss Woods before biting down. Bellamy decided to take advantage of the situation. 

“Miss Woods, How far is it to the Wallaces’ location? Do you know how many men they might have?” he asked. 

“Their compound is about a day and a half’s ride from our starting point. I know it to be large, but the number of men,” she shook her head, “I don’t know for certain. It could be anywhere from thirty to sixty. They employ men on a rotating basis. Though, I am sure, if they need them all, they will have them all.” Bellamy frowned. Sixty was an exceptional number. So was thirty, but thirty - with good planning and careful execution - was doable. By the time they arrived to the compound they would have only three days to prepare. It was tight, but Bellamy Blake was good at his job. 

“What about you, Miss Woods?”

“What _about_ me?”

“Do you have a secret weapon or skill that will make this all suddenly very easy?” From this speed and distance it was easy to see the way her face tinted pink. 

“If I had the skills or experience necessary for this task, I would have saved myself the trouble of finding you and gone myself. I can shoot a rifle, but I have not had as much practice as I would prefer. I will do whatever I can to help, Mr. Blake, make no mistake about that.” He shifted his gaze from the road ahead and found her jaw steely. This was a woman who knew what she wanted and would do everything in her power to obtain it. 

“I would never make that mistake, Miss.” The ride from that point was mostly quiet. Finn made all kinds of noise once he finished his apple; singing, chattering about a woman from the previous night, how many men he would kill in the compound. Both Bellamy and Miss Woods flat out ignored him and it became clear he was only speaking to himself. Thankfully, by the time they’d picked up the pace again, he was hard to hear. Bellamy did not mourn it. 

As they sky darkened, his eyes scanned the horizon for a decent enough camping spot. They eventually found one and set about bunking down for the night. After the horses had been settled, the campfire made, watches established, and dinner eaten, they let themselves relax. Finn fell asleep in minutes. The silence of the camp was broken with the snapping fire and the distant bugs. It was not uncomfortable.

“Mr. Blake, may I ask you a question?” Miss Woods asked after a considerable amount of time. He shrugged.

“You may.”

“Why did you refuse my money, but accept my job?” Bellamy could see now over the fire that her eyes were a shade of green that could almost pass for grey in certain light. An unusual woman indeed. 

“Seemed to me like you needed it more than we did,” he replied. 

“Then why accept? What is it about the Wallaces that lit a fire under you?” He grimaced at her wording. 

“It will surprise you, I think, to learn that I was once married. Echo and I - that was my wife - lived with my mother and my baby sister. It was a good life. One I’d like to return to one day. Our town had a mine as well, and like yours, that attracted some rich people who only wanted to get richer. They got violent and started burning houses of those who did not want to sell their land. My mother had been born in that house and was one of those. My sister and I had been out on an errand. When we got back, all that was left was ashes. Turns out Dante Wallace had lit our house himself.” His speech met the air with quiet, as if the cicadas and grasshoppers and paused to hear his story. 

“I am sorry to hear that.” Miss Woods’s voice was softer than he’d heard it before. He shrugged. 

“Finn has a similar story. Both parents and girlfriend who can now never walk right again. It’s heartbreaking, but it ain’t special.”

“That does not make it unimportant. I lost someone close to me as well. Her name was Costia. If it weren’t for Clarke, I-” she sighed and shook her head, “I would never have moved on. I would never have stopped surviving and started living.” Bellamy looked at her. Is that what he’d been doing? Surviving? Likely. In the years since he left after the fire, he’d seen Octavia only a handful of times and each time she was so vastly different from the previous. He did a good job raising her, not being present. 

“Maybe I should try that,” he wondered. “This Clarke sounds like she knows what she’s talking about.” That earned a laugh and he was almost startled by the sound of it. So joyful a sound out of so serious a person.

“Don’t tell her that. She will become insufferable. She is wonderful, but she is often pig headed.” Miss Woods’s smile changed to something more far off as her gaze was lost in the fire. 

“Why are you putting yourself through this for her?” Bellamy asked. 

She sighed again. “Besides knowing she wouldn’t have even stopped to find help if our situations were reversed? Do you remember when I said the Wallaces killed her father, the deputy?” She waited long enough for a confirmation before moving on. “It was _because_ of Clarke in the first place. She has been their most vocal opponent in town. Last week. Cage Wallace came into town personally and tried to intimidate everyone into finally submitting and Clarke went right up to him and told him to leave. Her father was trying to protect her. He agreed of course and was on her side, but we all know what kind of men the Wallaces are. He hoped to spare her from harm. It is debatable on whether or not he succeeded,” she mused. Bellamy furrowed his brow. She seemed more headstrong than anything. His question didn’t really feel answered. 

“I need you to understand, Mr. Blake. I am not well-liked back home. People have found all manner of justifiable reasons to cast me out of their own lives. Not once has that mattered to Clarke beyond yelling at people who were maybe a little disagreeable to me. There is nothing I would not do for her.” The serious quality of her voice took a new edge to it and the fire in her eyes was more internal. Bellamy believed her. 

“Then we will bring her home,” he promised. 

~

After another early start, this time with a more mellowed Finn, they reached their destination when the sun was highest in the sky. They tied their horses a little bit away and then found an old dried out tree to crouch behind. The compound was almost ugly. That was the only way Bellamy could think to describe it. The paint was chipping, the structure was unappealing, and it seemed entirely unattended to. Strange for men who probably had more money than decent. Finn pulled out a spyglass and carefully scanned the compound. 

“I’d need higher ground to confirm, but looks like there’s about 40 to 50 of these bastards. Most have one revolver and one lever action. Only a few have more. There looks like a nice ridge to the north with some green cover where we can park Miss Woods with a rifle. A couple of possible entry points. Dunno, need a better angle,” he murmured as he looked. Bellamy scratched down each note in a small notebook he pulled from his breast pocket, humming and grunting all the while. 

“Horses?”

“Only seeing six.”

“Wallaces?”

“Neither in view.”

“Large windows?”

“Top floor to the east.”

“That’s likely to be the office for at least one of them. Is there a spot we can corral the men?”

“Maybe somewhere behind the building. Can’t see. We could make a diversion a mile or so away that only trips once we are far enough.”

“If we can find green branches, sure.” Bellamy wrote each thought and possible strategy down while firing more at Finn. The two went back and forth for another ten minutes before backing slowly away and going around to the ridge Finn had spotted earlier. The new view helped him answer some of Bellamy’s earlier questions. 

“What do you think, Miss Woods? This a range you can handle?” Finn asked as Bellamy wrote. 

“I will make it work.” That determination leaked out of her again. 

“You ever kill a man before?”

“Finn,” Bellamy called out in warning. The man had little tact, but Miss Woods had done nothing to earn his derision. 

“I aim to have one novel experience a day.” Bellamy’s head shot up. Finn’s face was long in surprise and startled amusement. 

“Well okay, Miss Woods,” he laughed. “Let’s get you another novel experience and set up camp outside a criminal compound.” Bellamy finished his notes and together they found a spot far enough away that their smoke would not attract attention. The afternoon was spent running possible scenarios and brainstorming. Even Miss Woods contributed an idea or two. After dinner, Bellamy pulled his hat over his eyes and leaned against his saddle to sleep. 

“You know Miss Woods,” he heard after a long silence, “you’re not bad.”

“You’re not quite terrible either, Mr. Collins. I might even pay you once this is over.” Finn’s laugh followed him to sleep.

The morning was fraught with frenetic energy. It would be a long day consisting almost entirely of observation, but Bellamy figured the fact that they were _there_ and preparing set everyone’s nerves on high. Miss Woods was more still than he’d ever seen her and Finn had started to get that look in his eye that was a precursor to all of his raids. The three of them laid out on top of the ridge they’d discovered and went through each idea from the night before. Some, they were able to dismiss outright, but others proved their viability. 

“We would need at least three of them to bite for it to work,” Bellamy argued. Finn shook his head.

“Two would make enough of a disturbance-”

“How are we supposed to find Clarke?” Miss Woods’s soft voice cut through the conversation. “We do not, at this moment, know where she is being held.” She was right, Bellamy noted, looking down at his book. With a frown, he reached for Finn’s spyglass.

“How sure are you that they want her alive?” he asked. Miss Woods hesitated before answering. 

“I’m confident, but not enough to stake her life on it.”

“That may have to be enough.” He handed back the spyglass and jotted another sentence down in his book. 

“Pardon? What do you mean?” Miss Woods’s alarm was almost endearing. 

“Smoke ‘em out?” Finn asked.

“Smoke ‘em out.” 

“Now just a _minute_ here.” The men ignored her as she became increasingly nervous at the prospect of just setting a fire in the hopes that criminals cared enough to pull out her friend. But Bellamy knew he was good at his job and didn’t let her shock and disbelief bother him. 

“Finn, I need you to go and find green wood. A _lot_ of green wood. Enough for the distraction and smoking out,” he instructed. Finn offered a quick salute and disappeared from the ridge. “Miss Woods, I need you to trust me. This is an enemy I know and a job I perform well in. _You_ came to find _me_. I will rescue Miss Griffin, just as I said.” The odd colored eyes shadowed just long enough for Bellamy to catch her fear.

“If I must.” 

“High praise,” he scoffed. She shrugged and sighed. 

“I trust that you are my best hope at success. Mr. Collins is...not _ideal_ , but he has proven in the past two days that he is capable. If you are able to rescue Clarke, I will not stand in the way of your revenge,” she promised. 

“If we are not able?” he asked, curiosity nipping impatiently at the back of his head. He knew the question was a mistake when she leveled him with the most blank stare he had ever seen. 

“That is not an option, Mr. Blake.” Her word on the subject was law and he was not about to break it. Good thing he was a man of the law.

“That’s settled. Tell me if you can see any men through that window there.” They continued on as if nothing had changed, because really, nothing had. No one’s stance had been revealed to be anything other than initially thought and no threats were made. A successful conversation as far as Bellamy was concerned. 

Finn came back after a few hours. He had found - somehow - more than enough for what they’d need. He’d set a large pile where they’d planned the day before and brought brought back more to their campsite. The afternoon was spent narrowing down their plan until it was one that they all agreed on and knew backwards and forwards. Bellamy didn’t stop quizzing them until long after everyone was in their bedrolls and half asleep. 

The air when they woke was thick with tension. It was different than the previous morning in that everything had become _real_ over night. The plan they had settled on was happening today and not being ready had real life consequences. They broke down camp and prepared their horses for quick departures. Bellamy went over the plan again as they worked. 

“If you run out of ammunition or your part is done or you have Miss Griffin, get out, leave. Two hours east of here we passed a rock formation. We will meet there. If you’re not there in two days, we assume you are dead. Understood?” He waited for agreement before hauling himself up onto his horse. “Okay. Shoot straight. Stay out of sight. Good luck.” And they separated. 

Bellamy circled around and hitched his horse out of sight, yet not far enough that he couldn’t sprint to it. He took position and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, a plume of thick, black smoke rose from the horizon. He watched some of the men begin to take notice and point it out to one another. Eventually enough of them noticed the potential security threat that someone who was clearly in charge, ordered the horses to be taken to investigate. Bellamy grinned. All of the horses was even better than the two he’d expected. 

He waited again, watching the horses and riders disappear into specks in the distance. This time he kept his eyes on the compound itself and was rewarded when another thick stream of smoke began to rise from the basement. Slowly, the inhabitants of the house trickled out, each coughing more than the last. He took careful stock of each one, but didn’t see a head of blond hair or the two men he’d sworn to kill. 

The three of them came out last. Dante Wallace strode out, irritation written into his very and step. His son, Cage, seemed half dressed and gripped the back of Miss Griffin’s dress as he stormed out, just about dragging her behind him. He threw her to the ground and began shouting at his indifferent father. Bellamy took the opportunity to shift closer to the compound. He still couldn’t hear what was being said, but he didn’t need to. A man stood two feet in front of him, back turned. The others would be waiting on him now, and all he had to do was act. 

So he went to work, silently taking out those he could with a knife and hiding the bodies in the brush or just around the corner of the compound walls. Finn should have been doing the same on the other side and he honestly thought they could take out everyone in that way when a shot echoed through the valley. He froze, glanced up at Miss Woods, but instead, found a man looming over him, gun pulled, red spilling from a shot on his neck. 

And then all hell broke loose. 

He was in the open now, fielding shots from his aware enemies. Every now and then, a shot would ring louder than the rest and a man he hadn’t seen would collapse to the ground. Bellamy had to laugh. ‘Not had as much practice as I would prefer’ indeed. Finn seemed to fly in from no where and tackle a man to the ground with a knife in hand and then popped back up instead with a revolver. The hectic noise and adrenaline sharpened Bellamy’s focus so he could easily count the remaining men (7) and land a single shot on each of them before silence rang out. 

He could hear simpering and rose from his hiding place. Finn held the Wallaces at gun point while ignoring the bullet wound to his arm. His eyes glinted again, more severe than two morning’s previous. Now they looked liked jewels reflecting in a tropic sun, promising, promising. He’d shot each of then in a knee to prevent escape. Dante clearly took it better than his slobbering son.

“Dante and Cage Wallace. My name is Bellamy Blake, I am a US Marshall. You will be delivered to justice.” The script felt different than it usually did. Maybe because this time he really meant it. Dante laughed.

“You really think either of us will go to prison, son? After all you did here today? I will not, stupid, boy,” he cackled. Bellamy cocked his head to the side dramatically. 

“Prison? I do not recall saying that word. I said _justice_. Have at it, Finn.” The screams that followed would join the rest of his nightmares, but, in them, he would find satisfaction. 

~

Bellamy wiped the blood from his hands and knife as he and Finn turned from the bodies on the ground and towards the bound, blond woman who watched them from underneath an unused cart. Her blue eyes were vivid in rage and fear, so Bellamy dragged Finn to a stop a little farther away than he would have normally. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am. Are you Miss Clarke Griffin, daughter of Deputy Sheriff Jacob Griffin?” he asked as he crouched to be eye level with her. The mistrust in her face turned to confusion. 

“I am. Who are you?” Her voice was raspy. He imagined a combination of disuse and screaming would do that to a person. 

“I am US Marshall Bellamy Blake, this is my associate, Finn Collins. We have come to retrieve you and bring you home,” he explained. At the sound of his name, Finn plastered on an overly charming grin and took a step towards her. She immediately flinched back. “Are you hurt?”

Eyes flickering between the two of them, she shook her head. “They tied me up and threw me in a basement. Nothing but neglect here.” Bellamy nodded and gestured to her bound hands. 

“Do you mind if I...?” He pointed to the ropes and she shook her head. Bellamy edged Finn out of the way and carefully ripped through the bonds with his now clean knife. “My horse is just beyond those trees there, can you walk?” he asked, gesturing to the direction he’d left his horse. Miss Griffin frowned. 

“I do not believe so. My whole body is shaking. My knee do not feel quite strong enough.”

“May I carry you, then? It isn’t far, and if you want to try yourself, I will happily put you down.”

“Please.” He nodded and carefully scooped her into his arms, one beneath her knees and the other around her back. She looped a tired arm over his neck and let herself relax against him. 

“Finn, take what you want from here, I will see you at the meeting place,” he called out as Miss Griffin settled against him.

“Ain’t gotta tell me twice.” Finn gave him a sharp nod and disappeared into the smokey compound. Bellamy turned in the direction of his horse and began walking. He felt Miss Griffin’s head lay against his shoulder, then her hand against his chest. 

“Mr. Blake,” she murmured, “thank you for saving me.” Bellamy was struck in that moment by how beautiful she was, even so tired, dirty, and weak. 

“It was no burden to me.” He carefully hefted her into the saddle of his horse, checking all the while that she was secure and would not fall off. Then he swung himself up behind her and maneuvered the horse towards their meeting place. Miss Griffin was silent nearly the entire ride, her weight reassuring against his chest. She was clearly conscious which made his job considerably easier and lessened his urgency. The rock formation where they were meeting had just come into sight when she did speak. 

“Mr. Blake, is there any news of my town? Have they hurt anyone else?” she asked. The rasp in her voice hadn’t really changed, so Bellamy first reached for the water skin on his saddle and held it out for her. 

“I have heard nothing since you have been taken, no,” he answered. She sighed, relieved. 

“Thank goodness.” They rode into the spot only minutes later and for a moment, Bellamy was nervous. Miss Woods’s draught horse was no where in sight. He slipped silently from the saddle and then helped Miss Griffin do the same. 

“Stay close to the horse,” he said, pulling one of his revolvers from his belt. A shape shot out from a crevice in the rocks, the clear shape of a raised rifle. Bellamy’s own revolver was up and aimed before his brain registered Miss Woods, bleeding from a cut under her eye. The adrenaline caught up and both dropped their weapons. 

“Mr. Blake, I am glad-” Miss Woods began to sag against the rock behind her when a shape flew past Bellamy’s peripheral vision. Miss Griffin, with all her exhaustion, threw her arms around Miss Woods with abandon. She could clearly barely hold herself up, but Miss Woods dropped the rifle without a second thought and clasped her arms around the woman in her arms, all but holding her up.

“Lexa, what are you doing here? Are you bleeding?” Miss Griffin pulled back just enough to caress the skin below the injury with her thumb. Miss Woods seemed startled by it. 

“I must be. One of the men found where I was hiding and we had an altercation.” The explanation seemed lack-luster, but if she was mostly unhurt, that was fine for Bellamy, though, the soft nickname from Miss Griffin caught him by surprise. The blond clicked her tongue and shook her head. 

“You idiot,” he raised an eyebrow at the affectionate insult, “you should have just left me.” Miss Woods’s face went impossibly soft at that and Bellamy came to think maybe he shouldn’t be present for this conversation. 

“You know I would never.” And then she dipped her head and kissed her. A lot of things suddenly made no sense and complete sense. He turned around to give them some privacy and to give his brain a hell’s chance at catching up. He walked a little back the way they’d rode in just in time to see Finn and his horse grow bigger on the horizon. Finn’s smile took up the entire real estate of his face and the sound of coin in his saddlebags was the only explanation Bellamy needed. 

“Ho! Did well on my scavenge. I think I found damn near $6,000. Since you decided Miss Woods does not need to pay for our services, you and I will do a fifty fifty split. We can count after dinner,” he finally hopped off his horse and looked around, “the ladies well?” he asked. 

Bellamy hummed. “Let’s give them a little time to catch up alone.”

~

They set off again before nightfall just to put a little extra distance between themselves and the compound. They’d only distracted a group of them and no one knew if they would be on the hunt for their employers murderers. Granted, they had no real clues as to who that would be, but it was better to be safe than sorry. They made camp far later than they would have normally and Bellamy sent Finn off to do a quick hunt. 

He wasn’t gone long, but it gave the women enough time to settle in. They’d shared the draught horse and now shared a bedroll, their bodies in some constant kind of contact as they made themselves ready. Finn wasted no time in falling asleep after eating so Bellamy spent his time cleaning his weapons and watching Miss Griffin tend to the cut on Miss Woods’s face. There was an obvious tenderness and familiarity there that he wasn’t sure he ever even reached with Echo. The insistence behind the words Miss Woods spoke each time she was sure they would rescue Miss Griffin put things into perspective, as did Miss Griffin’s question about the safety of her people. 

Eventually, the day - or week - caught up with Miss Griffin and she fell asleep into Miss Woods who was half propped against her saddle behind her. Her fingers played with the golden strands and the smile on her face matched the interactions he’d caught between them. It was heart warming, to know he played such a role in getting them back to each other. Miss Woods’s eyes flickered up to meet his. He grinned at her and wiggled his eyebrows at the woman in her arms. Her face went pink, but her smile grew. 

~

The town was no different than when Bellamy had left it months prior. Still half broken down with people who cared less about the buildings and more about their neighbors. His own house was a little more spruced up than he remembered. New shutters, patched roof, painted door. It made sense when he drew closer and found Lincoln sitting in a chair on the porch opposite his sister. He held a book in his hands and a soft smile on his face. Octavia’s was much the same and Bellamy couldn’t help but think of the two women he’d just escorted home. 

“My, my, you’ve grown,” he called out when he was close enough. Octavia’s face whipped over to him and the rest of her body followed soon afterward, trapping him in a hug the moment his feet touched ground. He wrapped his arms around her and breathed in the familiar scent of her, the scent of home. 

“Welcome back, big brother. How long are you here for?” Bellamy pulled back and made a show of looking for his US Marshall badge. 

“If it is amenable to you, forever.” Her face beamed at him and he decided that Octavia should have always been his number one and now, finally, would be.


End file.
